


Debts Repaid

by zuotian



Series: Cthulhu Cuckold [1]
Category: South Park
Genre: Anal Sex, Belly Kink, Cock & Ball Torture, Come Inflation, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Cuckolding, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Double Penetration, Dubious Consent, Eggpreg, M/M, Mpreg, Oral Sex, Oviposition, Rape Fantasy, Tentacle Rape, Trans Male Character, Unrealistic Sex, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 16:36:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20567489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zuotian/pseuds/zuotian
Summary: Kenny and Cartman are enjoying a strangely domestic relationship years into the future when Cthulhu returns to settle old debts.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ALL CHARACTERS AND EVENTS IN THIS FANFICTION—EVEN THOSE BASED ON A REAL SHOW—ARE ENTIRELY GRATUITOUS. ALL CANONICAL DIALOGUE IS IMPERSONATED ... POORLY. THE FOLLOWING FANFICTION CONTAINS COARSE LANGUAGE AND DUE TO ITS CONTENT IT SHOULD NOT BE READ BY ANYONE.

A loud  _ snip _ reverberated throughout the bedroom as Kenny vanquished Cartman’s last ingrown toenail. 

“Done,” Kenny announced. He nudged Cartman’s foot off of his bent knee and carelessly discarded the nail clippings onto the mottled carpet. 

Cartman, meanwhile, retracted his leg underneath the blankets with a grumble. Slumped against a stack of flaccid pillows bunched behind his back, he slapped the small, rickety table adjacent to his side of the bed, which had been filched curbside like every other piece of furniture in their leased starter home. Cartman’s palm landed flat in a void of empty table space. His eyes swiveled towards Kenny. “Where’s my fucking Valium?” 

Kenny stood and addressed his own bedside table. The layout of their bedroom was very traditional, 1950s-style. Very symmetrical. Very kitsch. 

Kenny opened his drawer, deposited the pocket knife he used to hack at Cartman’s toe cheese and the nail clipper for finer detail work. He held the drawer out, peering around loose condom packets, crumpled receipts, and a half-empty carton of Newports, then slammed it shut when Cartman’s Valium did not miraculously appear. “I dunno.” 

Cartman grunted. Kenny looked up and found him bent over, ass up in the air as he rifled under the bed. “It’s gotta be around somewhere,” Cartman said, voice muffled by his upside down, gravity-addled body weight. 

Kenny hummed, crawled onto the bed, joints creaking. The mattress dipped under his knees. He smacked Cartman’s left ass cheek. “Find it yet?” 

“EY!” 

Cartman’s head swung up. He glared over his shoulder at Kenny. Kenny smirked, groped a fistful of Cartman’s ass through his ancient, threadbare South Park Cows gym shorts. 

Kenny’s smirk disappeared once a plastic bottle got chucked at his sternum. He released Cartman’s ass and caught the bottle in his hands. 

“Fuck you,” Cartman said and laid back down. “Feed me, whore.”

“Testy,” Kenny observed. He retrieved a bottle of vodka from his bedside table, popped its cap off along with the Valium’s, and shuffled into Cartman’s lap. 

Cartman sighed once Kenny nestled over his pelvis - a comforting, customary position between the two of them. ‘I’ve had a long fucking day, okay? Jesus Christ.” His hands slid up to rest atop Kenny’s waist. “I just wanna sleep.” 

“Were you sued again?” Kenny asked. 

“That’s your biggest fucking concern?” Cartman asked. His face darkened with a scowl. “Whether or not I was sued?” 

Cartman was self-employed at his own consulting firm. He didn’t actually consult anybody, but rather encouraged burgeoning business owners into shady deals, then pocketed most of the resulting profits before the companies inevitably crashed and burned. His methods were frequently scrutinized by the law, but insofar no claims against him had stuck.

Kenny frowned, lowering the vodka and Valium so that both rested on Cartman’s pillowy stomach. “Dude, you get sued every other week.” 

“You just want me for my money,” Cartman said. “I’m just your sugar daddy, huh?” 

Kenny glanced around their nondescript bedroom. “Yeah, sure.”

“You don’t care about my intellect or my emotional wellbeing,” Cartman continued. 

Kenny looked back at Cartman, studied his eyes - one brown, one blue, a testament to their transpersonal connection - but before he could get a good read, Cartman averted his gaze. 

“I’m just tired,” he said. “I just wanna pass the fuck out.” 

Kenny doubted he’d get anything specific out of Cartman, and in all honesty it wasn’t worth the effort. If Cartman was going to be dodgy and irritated, he  _ should _ just pass the fuck out. Kenny lifted the vodka and Valium - two thirds of Cartman’s favored trifecta of indulgences, excluding vagina. “Bottoms up, then.” 

Cartman craned his neck back and opened his mouth, exposing his upper palate and a row of white, straight teeth so unlike Kenny’s crooked, yellow fangs. Kenny wordlessly placed a single Valium on Cartman’s tongue, then poured vodka down his gullet. 

Cartman swallowed. Vodka dribbled down his chin. Kenny pressed his skinny chest into Cartman’s saggy tits, slotted their lips together. “Go to sleep,” he whispered, a command to wake up in a better mood wisely withheld. 

He climbed off Cartman’s lap, put the Valium and vodka away, and slid under the blankets, then nabbed his phone and smoked a cigarette whilst scrolling through pictures of Stan and Kyle’s family vacation. 

Stan and Kyle shared joint custody of Stan and Wendy’s daughter. She smiled between her father and stepdad, wind-tossed, black hair encrusted with ocean brine and flecks of sand. Wendy had left several comments in perfect grammar, hoping they were having fun and reminding them to stay safe and watch out for stingrays. The girl’s birth and subsequent immolation of her parents’ marriage was a fucked situation, but all parties involved - plus Kyle, eventually - got out of it unscathed and maintained a civil dynamic. 

Kenny glanced at Cartman, already dozing off and drooling, and wondered what it would be like if they ever had kids. Probably terrible. Their offspring would undoubtedly be a hellspawn monstrosity, the antithesis of everything holy, a blight upon common society. 

Perhaps it was this exact thought which precipitated the proceeding events. Logistically, Kenny knew that wasn’t the case, but looking back it seemed like a sensible hypothesis. 

He snubbed the cigarette out in his bedside ashtray, locked his phone, and shut off the lamp, intending to bust an inconspicuous nut whilst pressed against Cartman’s unconscious form. Just as his hand snaked down his pants, however, a shimmering light filled the room as a rift in reality opened, seemingly, out of nowhere.

A massive, alien silhouette appeared. The otherworldly light condensed behind its form, then disappeared. 

Kenny blinked. He turned to Cartman, who was well and truly  _ out _ and would be for the next ten or so hours - whether or not there was a house fire or an earthquake or the arrival of some primordial creature. Thankfully, Kenny was able to step beyond the gossamer veil of death into deeper (or higher, but rarely so) planes of existence, which meant he had a good threshold for stuff like this. 

His eyes readjusted to the darkness. Now he could discern the monster’s features. 

“What’s up, Chthulu?” he greeted. 

For the monster was, indeed, Chthulu. It was a thousand times smaller than its true size, albeit still at a hulking demonic scale. Its writhing crown of tentacles brushed the bedroom ceiling, and it had to hunch its shoulders to stay within Kenny’s field of vision, which was a weirdly demure sight.

“ _ My son _ ,” Chthulu returned. The words were inaudible, but Kenny heard them clear as day. 

Telepathy, he thought. Sweet. 

“What brings you around, Daddy-o?” he asked. “It’s been awhile.” 

“ _ Indeed it has _ .” Chthulu’s gaze flickered towards Cartman - or so Kenny supposed, judging by the short pause. “ _ I see you still align yourself with the infernal and malevolent. _ ” 

Kenny shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so.” 

“ _ This comforts me greatly. As you can see, I am not well _ .” 

“You do look a little rough,” Kenny said. “Are you here for help?” 

“ _ That I am. _ ” Chthulu paused again, considering its next words. “ _ I have...a problem _ .” 

“Look,” Kenny said, and raised his hands. “I can’t deal with any multiverse shit or whatever without offing myself. And I try to stay alive as much as possible these days.” 

“ _ What an ironic statement, coming from an immortal being such as yourself _ . _ The confines of life and death, reality and unreality, do not apply to you, child _ .” 

Kenny responded noncommittally. “Eh. I’m still half human.” 

“ _ It would be best to discard such a limiting perspective, at least for the time being. _ ”

Kenny’s brow furrowed. “I told you, I’m not going anywhere.” 

“ _ Your assistance can be adequately lent in this realm. _ ” 

“Oh.” Kenny relaxed. “What do you need?” 

Chthulu gestured at itself with one of its great claws. “ _ I am indisposed. Or, rather, I am in need of disposing. _ ” 

“I’m not following,” Kenny admitted. 

“ _ I am encumbered by new progeny. _ ” 

“Wait - you’re, like...knocked up?” 

“ _ I do not know what this means _ .” 

“You’re pregnant,” Kenny clarified. 

“ _ That is a justified analogy.”  _

Kenny blanched. “Oh, hell no. I’m not raising your kid.” 

“ _ You misunderstand my conundrum _ ,” Chthulu said. “ _ Actually, it’s quite embarrassing. _ ” 

Kenny squinted, hoping to catch the lord of the underworld blushing. “What happened?” 

“ _ In human terms, you could say that I had a one night stand _ .” 

“A one night stand,” Kenny echoed. “With who?” 

“ _ It doesn’t matter _ ,” Chthulu insisted. “ _ I am incapable of gestation. I need a vessel for my offspring, but I cannot let any of my concubines be seen carrying such a mistake _ .” 

“Aren’t there abortions where you come from?” Kenny asked. “Or, like, the morning after pill?” 

“ _ Despite the circumstance surrounding their origins, I will not eliminate any children of mine. I hoped you would understand that, Kenny McCormick. _ ” 

“Sorry, Dad,” Kenny quipped. He raked a hand through tousled hair. “The problem is, though, I don’t got the plumbing.” Ordinarily he didn’t have any qualms exposing himself, and now was not the time to garner a sudden bashfulness. He lowered the hem of his shorts and showed Chthulu his penis. “See? It’s not gonna work. It’s - it’s another human thing.”

Chthulu bent over the bed to get a closer look. “ _ I see _ .  _ This is disappointing _ .” He turned to Cartman. “ _ What about him _ ?” 

“Uhhh.” Kenny’s thoughts blanked. Not because the proposed compromise was impossible. It  _ was _ possible, and his brain worked in overdrive coming up with an excuse to the contrary. 

“ _ Do not lie to me. I can sense your thoughts _ ,” Chthulu said. “ _ He has the correct plumbing, as you call it.” _

“But you can’t use him,” Kenny blurted. “Cartman - he’s not  _ like _ me. He’s completely human. He couldn’t handle it.” 

“ _ Ahh, Cartman is his name. I remember that now. _ ” Cthulhu arrested Kenny with a stare that afforded no argument. “ _ He may be more like myself than you are, in fact. I also remember that he came to me for help long ago _ .” 

“So what?” Kenny demanded. 

“ _ He is in my debt _ .” 

“That’s stupid. He was just a kid! He didn’t know what he was doing back then!” 

“ _ It matters not. Time is immaterial. _ ” 

“I’m not gonna let you rape my boyfriend,” Kenny swore. 

Cthulhu hummed. “ _ Let us see what he says.” _

Kenny scooted closer to Cartman, wrapped an arm over him to ward off the evil god. “Well, whatever. He’s in a Valium and vodka coma. He won’t be waking up soon.” 

“ _ Do not forget to whom you are speaking, Kenny _ ,” Cthulhu warned, and passed a giant claw over Cartman.

Cartman’s body seized under Kenny’s arm. Kenny gasped, scrambling to his knees, dick flipflopping between his thighs. He moved Cartman onto his back, but not without considerable effort. 

Cartman’s eyes snapped open, unseeing. His mouth widened in a silent scream until he inhaled and gave voice to the abrupt retrieval from his drug-induced slumber. 

Kenny cradled Cartman in his lap. Even in the room’s darkness, he could see that Cartman’s face was deathly pale. “Cartman! Hey, hey there, Eric. Fuck, are you okay?” 

Wheezing and coughing, Cartman settled down in fits and spurts, until his eyes found Kenny’s. “What the - what the fuck -  _ Kinneh!” _

“I gotcha,” Kenny promised. “It’s okay, dude. Uhh, just, like, don’t look up.” 

Cartman looked up. His eyes widened further at the sight of Cthulhu chilling in front of them. “Oh, shit, what the hell is that? Oh, shit, oh fuck - “ 

Cartman suddenly quieted, stunned to silence as Chthulu cut off his rambling, unimpressed. Kenny didn’t know what Chthulu was communicating to Cartman. Once Chthulu finished Cartman clawed at Kenny’s shirt and dragged his fat ass into Kenny’s scrawny embrace. 

“It’s in my head! It’s mindraping me! I’m getting mindraped,” Cartman yelled, unable to look away from the primordial being. “I can feel its demon dick in my brain!” 

“It’s not mindraping you,” Kenny said. “It’s just…” He glanced at Cthulhu. “Talking.” 

“ _ He doesn’t recognize me _ ,” Chthulu said, a little dejectedly. 

“He just woke up,” Kenny snapped, “give him a second!” He grabbed Cartman’s face in his hands. “Look at me, Eric! That is  _ Cthulhu _ , remember? You two used to be all buddy-buddy, remember?”

Cartman took a closer look at Cthulhu. His heaving breaths slowly evened out. “Wow. It is Cthulhu.” He cocked his head. “Why aren’t you a thousand feet tall anymore?”

“You don’t want to know,” Kenny muttered. 

Cthulu explained his plight to Cartman. Cartman’s agitation resumed with every telepathic word the monster delivered, and he turned to Kenny, aghast. “He wants to  _ fuck  _ you?” 

“Not me,” Kenny said, which Cthulu confirmed.

Cartman whirled toward Cthulhu. “Why me?” 

Cthulhu addressed them both, inviting Kenny back into the conversation. “ _ Kenny said you had the correct plumbing _ .” 

“Oh, great!” Cartman wholloped Kenny’s shoulder. “Thanks a lot, dickhead!” 

“Ow!” Kenny pushed Cartman off his lap and rubbed his bruised shoulder. “This isn’t  _ my _ fault!” 

Cartman pointed an emphatic finger at Cthulhu. “You aren’t getting my snatch!” He pointed at Kenny as well. “And neither are you anymore, asshole! Trying to set me up with this crazy alien weirdo!” 

Kenny sighed. “Cartman, come on, man…” 

“No!” Cartman pushed off the bed. “I’m outta here.” 

Cthulhu had been patiently listening to Cartman’s endless protestations, but now he was spurred to action - enveloping a dresser in shadow, which he flung in front of the bedroom door, prohibiting Cartman’s exit. 

Cartman came crashing to a halt in front of the blocked door and turned around - no longer indignant, but meek and fearful. Cthulhu strode toward him, its enormous stature dwarfing Cartman’s own substantial size. 

Kenny rose to his knees, hands outstretched, as if he could stop the developing conflict. “Let’s just calm down, everybody - “

Cthulhu sent Kenny crashing into the opposite wall with a flick of its hand. Kenny fell to the carpet in a dazed slump. He blinked, saw Cartman step forward. 

“Kenny!” 

Cthulhu trapped Cartman in shadow. Cartman struggled ineffectually. 

“Ey, let go of me! Get offa me!” 

The shadow strengthened, curled around Cartman’s windpipe. Kenny dragged himself off the floor, unsteadily stumbled forward as Cartman asphyxiated. 

Cthulhu brought Cartman up to its own eye level. Kicking and scratching at the matterless shadow wringing his neck, Cartman’s head brushed the ceiling. 

_ “I came to your aid once, Eric Cartman,”  _ Cthulhu said. “ _ I lent a hand in the destruction of San Francisco - but not out of my own volition. You manipulated me with your adorable, childish wiles. But now you are no longer adorable, nor a child. You hold no sway over me. If you do not want to meet the same fate as I had, you will help me.”  _

Kenny braced one hand on the bed, held his head with the other. “He’s gonna mindrape you for real if you don’t do what he says,” he warned Cartman. 

“ _ Perhaps _ ,” Cthulhu said. “ _ Or perhaps the responsibility will fall to my son, who is of my own blood, who is obligated to do my bidding. _ ”

“You didn’t tell me that earlier,” Kenny protested. 

“ _ An alternative was presented to me _ ,” Cthulhu said. “ _ Yet, if I am forced to sire you, my new progeny will survive. But you will not _ .” 

Kenny scowled. “I can’t die, jackass!”

“ _ You are immortal, not invincible, _ ” Cthulhu reminded him. “ _ The stress will cause your very soul to tear apart at the seams. There will be nothing left to be reborn upon destruction _ .” 

“And how is Cartman any different?” Kenny asked. “How would he survive?” 

Cthulhu gazed at Cartman. Cartman’s fruitless struggle renewed, but he stayed trapped in Cthulhu’s hold like a fly caught in a web.  _ “Eric Cartman...his soul is made of darker material than your own, Kenny. His affinity to my essence will mitigate most of the damage done to his spirit. That, and his powerful snatch _ .” 

“Jesus fucking Christ…” Kenny sagged onto the bed. “So it’s either me or him. And if it’s me, I’m...gone.” 

“ _ Indeed _ ,” Cthulhu said. 

Kenny narrowed his eyes. “You’re the worst. I wish - I wish Godzilla was my dad!” 

“ _ Godzilla isn’t real _ ,” Cthulhu said. 

It released Cartman’s throat. The shadows receded, and, along with them, the forces which held Cartman aloft. He dropped to the ground in a disoriented heap. Kenny vaulted off the bed and helped Cartman onto his feet. 

“ _ I will give you a few minutes to discuss,”  _ Cthulhu said.  _ “Do you have any coffee?”  _

Kenny looked up from Cartman. “What?” 

“ _ Coffee _ ,” Cthulhu repeated. 

“Uh, yeah.” Kenny waved at the barred door. “In the kitchen. Make it yourself.” 

Cthulhu lifted the dresser back to its original spot against the wall and left the room. 

Kenny, meanwhile, helped Cartman sit down on the bed, rubbed his back as he gasped for air. 

“Cthulhu’s your  _ dad _ ?” Cartman asked once he was able to breathe again. 

“Kind of,” Kenny said. 

“He said you’re immortal,” Cartman said. 

“Kind of,” Kenny said again. 

“You never told me,” Cartman said. 

“You saw me die all the time when we were younger,” Kenny said. “You just don’t remember.” He focused on Cartman’s blue eye, identical to both of his own. “It’s true, though.” 

“I believe you,” Cartman said. 

“Really?” Kenny asked. “That easy?” 

Cartman shrugged. He rubbed his eye, the one like Kenny’s, perhaps subconsciously. “It makes sense.” 

“Not really,” Kenny muttered. 

“You’ve always been a cryptic douchebag,” Cartman said, “just like that.” 

“Maybe.” 

“But if your dad fucks you, then…” Cartman chewed on his bottom lip, paused. “Then you die for real.” 

“Kind of,” Kenny said. 

Cartman frowned. “There’s no ‘kind of’ about it. He said your soul will  _ tear apart at the seams _ .” 

“Yeah.” Kenny swallowed and looked away, unable to handle Cartman’s intense stare. After dying so much it was unsettling to be faced with his own very real mortality for the first time in his entire countless lives. He tried playing it off nonchalant, but internally he was losing it a little bit. “I don’t know what would happen,” he blurted out. 

Cartman thought about it for a second. The cloying scent of coffee permeated the air, signaling the impending decision they’d be forced to make. 

“If you died before, that means you’ve gone to heaven,” Cartman said after a moment. 

Kenny smirked and glanced back at him “Only once. The angels needed me to win a war. With my PSP.” 

“No shit,” Cartman said. “I...remember that, now. I tried to get your will, to see if you’d give it to me.” 

“Thanks,” Kenny said. “Some best friend you were.” 

Cartman blinked. “You heard me say that to you in the hospital?” 

“Yeah. Never thought you actually meant it.” 

“Well, I did,” Cartman said. “You’re my best friend, Kenny.” 

“It’s not like you have many options,” Kenny pointed out. 

“You’re right. You’re the only one who’s stuck by me.” Cartman’s eyes narrowed. “Why?” 

“I like clipping your toenails,” Kenny explained. 

Cartman snorted. “So, you’ve been to heaven once. Does that mean you’ve been to hell?” 

“Oh, for sure,” Kenny said. “I went there all the time. It’s not too bad. But if I end up not having a soul, I don’t think there’s anywhere for me to go.” 

“That’s not gonna happen, dude,” Cartman said. He put his hand on Kenny’s knee. 

“Eric…” Kenny covered Cartman’s hand with his own. “You don’t have to.” 

“It really sounds like I do,” Cartman said. “I’m gonna tell Cthulhu he can fuck me so we can be done with this forever.” 

“I need a fucking cigarette,” Kenny sighed. He reached around Cartman, retrieved a cigarette from his bedside table, tossed the lighter to the floor upon use and took a deep inhale. 

“So that’s why you still smoke all the time,” Cartman said, observing the cherry red tip of the cigarette. “You can’t get cancer.” 

Kenny exhaled. Lazy tendrils of smoke wound around Cartman’s head. “I can still get cancer. I’d just have to seppuku myself, then I’m good as new. Look, we’re veering off topic.” 

“There’s no topic,” Cartman denied. “We aren’t discussing anything.” 

“You have no idea what’ll happen to you,” Kenny told him. “ _ I  _ have no idea what’s gonna happen.”

“Anything would be better than if your stupid ass ceased to exist,” Cartman said. 

Kenny stared at him without response. It was probably the nicest, most romantic thing Cartman had ever said to anybody, especially given the fact that he’d never told Kenny “I love you” once during all their time together, in adolescence and beyond. 

They both turned at the sound of Cthulhu’s return. It squeezed itself into the bedroom carrying three cups of coffee - two in each hand, with an errant tentacle secured around the third’s handle. “ _ I brought you guys some coffee, _ ” it said, and bequeathed the latter cup to Kenny - a demonstration of kinship, if Kenny had to guess.

Kenny accepted the offer, confused by Cthulhu’s abrupt change in mood. “Um, thanks.” 

Cartman set his own cup on the bedside table. “Screw that, and screw you. I’m not playing around - so screw me.” 

“ _ You’ve come to a decision _ ?” Cthulhu asked.

Cartman stood. He dropped his South Park Cows gym shorts and yanked off his t-shirt to reveal his naked body in all its fat, hairy, hermaphroditic splendor. His breasts, reduced only in conjunction with the rest of his copious body mass, spilled over his stomach rolls which sat in layers atop a jungle of curly pubes. 

It was a morbid, disgusting, off-putting sight, that caused even Cthulhu to wince and second guess itself. But for Kenny, Cartman’s body activated an irreverent mix of desire, arousal, and adoration. He looked on with pride as Cartman lifted his chin. 

“Fuck me,” Cartman ordered Cthulhu.

Cthulhu’s upper lip - or at least the tentacles which composed its upper lip - curled. “ _ So be it _ .”  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

Cartman continued staring Cthulhu down as Kenny cleared the bed of random debris, which, shared between the two of them, included old joints, snack cake wrappers, and a used condom lost in the sheets. He gathered the pillows in an arrangement suited for Cartman’s comfort, briefly wondered if he should light some candles and put on music since he was already going through all this trouble - or maybe stretching a tarp over the mattress would be more befitting of the situation. As an afterthought, he set out a bottle of lube, but doubted it would help much. 

He stood beside the bed, awkwardly gestured at it. “All set,” he announced. 

Cartman crawled onto the mattress with a game face on. “I’m ready,” he said, poised in wait on his hands and knees. His flab and boobs dropped below him, nearly brushed the pillows beneath. 

Kenny climbed on next, sat cross-legged facing Cartman, wrapped his arms around Cartman’s soft shoulders to offer physical and emotional support with Cartman’s face smooshed into his chest. 

He looked at Cthulhu, amused by the trepidation evidenced by Cthulhu's hesitancy. It served the monster right to meet its match in the form of Eric Cartman. “Saddle up, Dad,” Kenny jeered. 

“ _ Very well _ …” 

Cthulhu kneeled behind Cartman’s ass. It had to bend in half in order to fit on the bed. One massive hand wrapped around Cartman’s entire waist, it planted the other near Kenny to brace itself. In this position, its face was within Kenny’s vicinity. Tentacles brushed his neck, jaw, and cheeks. Unbothered, he smirked at his father’s gaze. 

Cartman looked up, his chin digging into Kenny’s sternum. “Are we doing this or what, you ugly fucker?” 

“ _ Ugly fucker would be an accurate moniker, _ ” Cthulhu agreed. 

“At least I don’t have a tentacle dick, you slimy bastard,” Cartman said. 

“ _ You do not have a phallus at all _ ,” Cthulhu said. 

“Hey, fuck you. I got two phalluses. A very tiny one I’m not ashamed of at all and another one right in front of me.” 

Cthulhu looked to Kenny. “ _ He insults you _ .” 

Kenny shrugged. “He ain’t wrong.” 

“Hell yeah,” Cartman seconded. He dropped to one elbow and pawed at Kenny’s dick, by now enclosed in boxers, with his free arm. “I own this dick.” 

“Yeah you do, baby.” Besides the tentacles swarming his face, Kenny was moderately turned on. As a verified sexual deviant anything under the sun got his rocks off, but nothing did it just like verbal abuse, which Cartman served on a silver platter. 

Cartman squeezed his shaft through the boxers’ scratchy material. “Oh, yeah. Kenny’s on demand whenever and wherever.” 

“Like that time we did it in the City Wok bathroom when we were seventeen,” Kenny said. 

“Or at Stan and Kyle’s wedding,” Cartman said. 

“Especially at Stan and Kyle’s wedding,” Kenny said. “Stan and Wendy’s, too.” 

“And whoever else Stan marries next, cause he’s gonna piss Kyle off soon enough.” 

“I don’t know who I feel sorrier for,” Kenny said. 

“Definitely Stan,” Cartman said, thumbing Kenny’s cock in a rhythmic pattern. “The only thing worse than shacking up with that feminazi bitch is getting his asshole bound, by law, to Kyle’s dick.” 

Kenny snorted. “As if Kyle fucks him.” 

“Not like Stan fucks Kyle,” Cartman said. “They’re both a pair of pussy bottoms. I bet they hire Token’s big black cock for cuckolding sessions.” 

Cthulhu cleared its throat. “ _ May we proceed? _ ” 

Cartman twisted around without releasing Kenny’s dick, pinning all of his body weight onto the appendage and its accompanying scrotum. Kenny chuffed a lungful of air at the pained constriction. “Whaddayya think I’m waiting for over here?” Cartman asked Cthulhu. 

“ _ If you are so impatient _ …”

With an animalistic scream Cartman ricocheted into Kenny’s torso. Kenny barely kept his grip on Cartman’s shoulders, nearly fell off the bed as Cthulhu sheathed its phallus into Cartman’s vagina. Cartman’s scream dribbled into blubbering moans and groans and cries - low, keening sounds originating deep in his chest as his body tried to accommodate the otherworldly girth lodged inside of him.

Kenny peeked over his tense back. An array of tentacles wrapped around Cartman’s thighs and hips. Nestled therein, the tip of an enormous alien penis speared Cartman’s cunt. At least another foot of remaining length hung wet, bulbous, and ribbed. Kenny theorized if any other person had agreed to this they’d already be dead. But Cartman was built like a tank. Kenny didn’t even want to think about if he were in Cartman’s spot right now; his pelvis would no doubt be shattered beyond repair, his asshole gaped, the interior of his colon excavated by Cthulhu’s massive dong. 

“It’s not gonna fit,” Cartman growled into Kenny’s chest. Kenny felt but could not see the globs of spit falling from his lips, the tears running down his face. 

Kenny tangled his fingers into Cartman’s tousled hair already drenched in sweat. “You said this wouldn’t kill him, right?” he asked Cthulhu worriedly. 

“ _ Correct, _ ” Cthulhu said. “ _ It may even become pleasurable _ .” 

“Doubt it,” Cartman gritted. 

“ _ Relax _ ,” Cthulhu commanded. 

Cartman released a reedy whine at the word. Kenny immediately smelled something strangely fragrant. Earthy, almost aquatic, and definitely  _ bodily _ , its scent was impossible to place. He then heard a series of loud squelches and spurts. Threads of liquid shot into the air, across Cartman’s back and Kenny’s face. 

“What the hell is - oh  _ fuck _ ...” 

Cartman’s question petered into a lustful moan. Kenny finally realized that Cthulhu was pumping some sort of aphrodisiac into Cartman, the remnants splattered across both of them. He flicked his tongue out to swipe a taste of it off his bottom lip - and regretted it. It tasted rancid, but tingled all the way down his esophagus into his stomach where the sensation persisted. He could only imagine how Cartman felt getting filled with the stuff in his nether regions. 

The aphrodisiac acted as lube, too. Cartman scrabbled closer to Kenny’s chest, preening as Cthulhu literally inched deeper inside of him. The process was painstakingly segmented, each push bringing with it another gallon of aphrodisiac dumped into Cartman and thereby splashed onto Kenny.

“God almighty - in the name of Mel Gibson - sweet Jesus,” Cartman blabbered. “Oh, oh - nghh…” 

Kenny’s nostrils flared at Cartman’s shameless intonation. He folded Cartman’s bangs away to make eye contact. “What? What is it?”

“S’good,” Cartman mumbled, teary eyed, pupils blown out. “Fillin’...me up.” 

“How?” Kenny asked, rock hard. He wanted to know more. Needed to know more. “What do you mean?” 

Cartman dropped his forehead against Kenny’s chest, speechless. 

“ _ He refers to the prepping of the womb, _ ” Cthulhu commented, ministrating without much involvement. “ _ I am creating an environment conducive to gestation _ .” 

Kenny’s mind shuffled through a mediocre baseline of information gleamed from sex ed classes years ago, and Wendy’s much more recent pregnancy. “The - whaddayya call it - the sack. The thing for the baby.” 

“ _ For my eggs _ ,” Cthulhu corrected. “ _ It is not a sack, whatever that means, but rather a soup of sorts providing nutrients and such. _ ” 

“Oh, cool,” Kenny said. “How - how much are you…” 

“ _ A lot _ ,” Cthulhu answered. 

Cartman suddenly yelped in pain. His spine folded in on itself, body torqued at an awkward bend. “Ow, ow, ow, ow - “ 

“Cartman?!” Kenny palmed his face. “What’s wrong?” 

The pain woke Cartman up from his blissed out state and he started yelling demands. “It’s too fucking heavy! Get me on my back, my back - now, damn it!” 

“Dad,” Kenny shouted. 

“ _ I am complying _ ,” Cthulhu reported and pulled out. 

A geyser of splooge burst, flooding the bed and Cartman’s backside. Kenny marveled at the grievous amount of material, disbelieving that was just the excess not yet stored away inside of Cartman. Cartman collapsed on his side, whimpering, arms curled around his stomach. Kenny attempted to shove Cthulhu away; his efforts were pointless, but Cthulhu nonetheless took the hint and gave room for Kenny to turn Cartman onto his back. 

It was then Kenny saw the state of Cartman’s abdomen. Normally doughy stripes of fat had already ballooned into a nascent firmness, taut and red. Cartman rubbed at the paunch ineffectually. 

“Holy shit,” Kenny muttered. “Holy shit, Eric. Look at you.” 

“It  _ hurts _ ,” Cartman moaned. 

“Alright, c’mon.” Kenny laid Cartman on the pile of pillows so that his feet now hung off the edge of the bed, then sat against the headboard, Cartman’s head resting on his thigh. “Is that better?” 

“I fucking guess so,” Cartman spat. 

From this vantage point Kenny saw Cartman’s angry stomach visibly churn at the sudden fullness. Experienced in Cartman’s terrible dietary habits, he wasn’t a stranger to indigestion or tummy aches, but this was something no amount of antacid tablets could fix.

“ _ Are you ready to resume, Cartman _ ?” Cthulhu asked. 

“No,” Cartman whined. 

Kenny gripped both of his hands. “You can do it, Cartman. Do it for me.” 

“Fuck you,” Cartman said. He lifted his head and glared at Cthulhu. “And fuck you, too. You’re both a bunch of crazy cocksuckers. After this I’m celibate, I swear to Christ! I’m gonna become a monk in Tibet!”

“Cool, babe,” Kenny said. “That’s totally cool, just finish this out.” 

“ _ I must continue _ ,” Cthulhu informed. “ _ Eric Cartman, you possess the wickedest soul I’ve seen in a mortal. If anyone can do this, it is you. _ ” 

“That’s helpful, Cthulhu,” Cartman panted. “That’s real nice, you demonic moron.” 

“I believe in you,” Kenny encouraged also. “You’re - you’re such a badass, you’re the biggest badass I know.” 

Cartman turned his ire back on Kenny. “Shut up, McCormick! Why don’t you get summa this and see if you can sing me sweet praises then? I wish you were getting reamed right now! Seeing you in agony would at least give me a modicum of comfort, you worthless piece of shit!”

“You can rape me all you want later,” Kenny promised, “however you want.” 

“I want to  _ now _ ,” Cartman said. 

“ _ Would it truly help if Kenny were to be violated?”  _ Cthulhu asked. 

Cartman stop his angry screeching. “You’re serious? That’s on the table?” 

Cthulhu’s tentacles unfurled. “ _ Anything is on the table, my friend _ .” 

“You’re friends now?” Kenny asked incredulously. 

“Oh-ho!” Cartman laughed, a tad unhinged. “Get on your knees, Kenny! Take your daddy’s tentacle dick like the slut you are!” 

“Cartman,” Kenny said, his voice twisted with faint arousal and not-so-faint unease. “You’re joking, right?” 

“Do I look like I’m joking?!” 

“Err - no…” 

“That’s fucking right! Your dick is mine, and so is that ass, and what I say goes!”

Without warning, Cthulhu apprehended Kenny in a wave of shadows and lifted him into the air. A pair of tentacles eased him out of his boxers - even his  _ socks _ , for God’s sake - and flipped him around. He landed back on the bed, on all fours beside Cartman. 

The shadows fell away. Kenny stayed where he was. Not so much in fear of Cthulhu, but Cartman, who grinned at him smugly. 

“How’s it feel now, bitch?” Cartman asked. 

“Terrifying,” Kenny said. And yet his cock bobbed hard and pearling beneath him. 

Cartman looked down at his obvious erection. “Really?” 

“Eric, please,” Kenny begged. Images of his prolapsed colon flashed in his mind’s eye. “Please, it’s gonna break me. I’m gonna die.” 

“Good thing that isn’t a problem then,” Cartman said. He waved his hand. “Cthulhu, my good man?” 

A tentacle the width of a modest dildo breached Kenny’s unprepared asshole in one fell swoop. Kenny cried out, tears springing at the corners of his eyes. His nose burned; snot dripped from his nostrils into the facial hair bordering his cupid’s bow. He lowered his head, neck twisted painfully, and beseeched Cartman wantonly. “Eric, please, please, tell him to stop.” 

“Ask  _ him _ ,” Cartman ordered. “Ask your daddy to stop raping you.” 

Something in Kenny’s mind, the last vestiges of his sanity, snapped. He wondered if the rift in reality Cthulhu opened transported them into another dimension. He hoped this was all a dream. But the manic glint in Cartman’s eye as he watched Kenny getting fucked by the squirming tentacle was all too real. 

Kenny swallowed and screwed his eyes shut. “D-Daddy, please stop raping me.” 

“ _ I am unfamiliar with these games _ ,” Cthulhu replied dispassionately. “ _ Cartman, are you satisfied now?”  _

“Give him a couple more and I’ll be ready to roll,” Cartman sneered. 

“No! No, Eric, no, I can’t.” 

“But I  _ believe  _ in you, Kenny,” Cartman said. “I  _ know _ you can do it.” 

Kenny whimpered, flinched as the tips of another two tentacles prodded his stuffed hole. The tapered ends wiggled their way beside the first intrusion, widening Kenny more than any of Cartman’s strap-ons, or even his meaty fist, had before. 

“Okay,” Cartman said, turning to look up at Cthulhu. “I’m ready, hoss.” 

In spite of his cruel punishment, Cartman sought Kenny’s hand as Cthulhu positioned itself for reentry. They clung to each other tightly - Kenny writhing on three thick tentacles, as Cartman rubbed his inflated stomach and prepared for an ovipositor onslaught. 

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

The evening proceeded in the same manner for a bit, with Kenny’s asshole chocked full of tentacles as the ovipositor pushed deeper and deeper into Cartman’s stretched cunt. Spurts of liquid trickled into Kenny, causing his ass to tingle and relax. He drooled into the soaked sheets, balls drawn tight with an impending release, and reached down to jerk himself off. 

Noticing this, Cartman’s face scrunched with rage. “Oh, no you don’t - Cthulhu,” he barked. 

“ _ Yes, Cartman?”  _ asked Cthulhu.

“Make sure Kenny doesn’t spend himself like a thirteen year old boy,” Cartman said. 

“ _ As you wish _ .” 

A fourth tentacle eased under Kenny’s contracting asshole, past his flaming perineum, and squeezed his dick like a python, squishing his balls in the process. Kenny pumped his hips, intending to shake the tentacle off, but this only caused the tentacles in his ass to drag across his prostate. His trembling arms gave out; he dropped face first into the mattress and began to cry. 

“Poor baby,” Cartman said. “Poor stupid baby Kenny. He needs to be taught a lesson, huh?” 

He and Cthulhu must’ve communicated in a one-way channel, because a fifth tentacle poked Kenny’s ass, igniting the ring of fire further, without audible prompting from Cartman. 

Kenny’s eyebrows pinched. Well beyond words, he could only brokenly cry, “Ahh, unh - ah - ah - ah,” along with the tentacle’s progression into his ass. If he wasn’t already at his limits he was definitely there now. A terrible ache creeped from his ass and lower back up his spine. He hunched his shoulders in a hopeless attempt to escape the pain, to ignore the stimulus. Cthulhu offered another helping of aphrodisiac, but that merely numbed the burn instead of replacing pain with pleasure. 

Cartman, predictably, revelled in Kenny’s agony; it distracted it from his own. An endless litany of insults and jibes fell from his parted lips, increasingly turning to gibberish as Cthulhu’s ovipositor neared homebase. With each successive gush of fluid, Cartman’s stomach gained another inch in circumference, rounding out to a size larger than ever before, larger than after his largest Thanksgiving dinners or KFC benders. He already looked pregnant, like he was nearing the end of his first trimester. Kenny dazedly caught glimpses of the massive mound when he had the wherewithal to look. It was a beautiful sight, cresting into his field of vision like a crimson sunrise. 

“How - how you do?” he asked a little while later. He must’ve blacked out, because when he opened his eyes he found Cartman biting on the pillow under his head. 

“Un-uh,” Cartman grunted. 

“Dad?” Kenny asked. 

Cthulhu responded, “ _ I am seated inside of Cartman completely.”  _

“Oh.” Kenny blinked a couple times. “Oh, wow. Eric.” 

Cartman opened his eyes at the sound of his own name. He spat out the pillowcase. “Don’t tell me we gotta redo all that now,” he said to Cthulhu. 

“ _ We do not _ .” 

Cartman nodded. “Okay. Cool, cool. Alright.” 

“What’s next?” Kenny asked for his benefit. 

“ _ You will feel a slight increase in pressure _ ,” Cthulhu warned. 

“More than there already is?” Cartman asked. 

“ _ The enlargement is necessary to deposit the eggs _ .” 

“Eggs,” Cartman repeated. “Eggs,” he said again. 

“ _ Yes _ .” 

“Can’t you just incubate these suckers, like we did in first grade?” 

“ _ You are the incubator _ .” 

“Ha,” Kenny laughed breathlessly. 

Cartman scowled. “What’d you say, bitch?” 

“Nothing,” Kenny said. “Nothing, I promise.” His knees were growing numb, having been stuck in the same position for so long, but there was no moving now without causing irreversible damage to his asshole. The tentacles squirmed around one another in an unpredictable, undulating pattern over his prostate. If anything else went in there, no matter how small, Kenny knew he’d definitely tear. That, or his dick would explode. “It’s nothing, Cartman.” 

“That’s what I thou - ghhttt,” Cartman huffed. “Ah, shit.” 

“Yeah?” Kenny prompted. 

“Pressure,” Cartman gasped. “I gotta, I gotta do something.” 

“Maybe,” Kenny swallowed down a pained noise as he shifted his achy knees, “maybe if I wasn’t getting  _ raped _ , I could...hggh...h-help…” 

Cartman didn’t reply, too busy pulling his legs up to his chest and hooking his arms under his thighs. This helped widen his cunt, but added pressure to his tight stomach. Kenny saw the skin jump in a series of rapid cramps. Cartman began to panic, chest heaving as the ovipositor knotted inside of him, grew and grew and grew. “Kenny,” he cried. 

“What?” Kenny snapped, annoyed. “What do you want me to do?” 

“C’mere,” Cartman said. “Cthulhu - let him go, let me have him - “ 

The tentacles in Kenny’s ass and around his dick retreated all at once, quicker than the blink of an eye. Kenny whited out; his stomach flipped upside down, nausea climbed up his throat. A stream of liquid trickled out of his ass, which clenched on open air. He brought a shaking hand to his dick, pumped it twice, and gagged as ropes of cum decorated the bed sheets, his brain flooded with dopamine.

“I gotta puke,” he moaned, and rolled in his own cum to hang his head off the bed.

“Kenny!” 

Kenny ignored Cartman’s call, retched for a few moments. Nothing came up. He hacked a loogie into the carpet, rolled back around, and lazily stretched out on his side. “What?” 

“Help me,” Cartman demanded.

Kenny wormed close to Cartman. He was covered in sweat head to toe, feet kicking the air, caught in the throes of a tantrum. Kenny littered kisses on his face, jaw, neck, and shoulder, snaked a hand over his engorged stomach, found it incredibly warm to the touch. “Your belly hurts?” he mumbled into Cartman’s ear, too stupid to not to ask such a stupid question. 

“I hate you,” Cartman said. He twisted his face towards Kenny, nipped at Kenny’s bottom lip in retaliation for - something. Probably this entire predicament. 

Kenny’s breath hitched as Cartman latched onto his lip hard enough to draw droplets of blood. “Sorry,” he mumbled, continuing to rub circles into Cartman’s skin, his voice comically modulated by his trapped lip. “Sorry, babe. Sorry Cthulhu’s my dad.” 

Cartman released Kenny’s lip in favor of sticking his tongue down Kenny’s throat. Kenny just let it happen, too far gone to give a shit, and let Cartman damn near suffocate him. 

A string of spit connected their mouths when Cartman pulled back. “You owe me,” Cartman vowed. “For all this shit you’ve put me through. I don’t care what you say. When all this is done, I’m gonna do whatever I want to you, whenever I say, wherever we go.” 

Kenny barely followed. “How are you even saying so many words right now?” he groaned, nuzzling Cartman’s neck. “Chill out, babe. You’re getting  _ seeded _ . Chill out.” 

“My spite keeps me alert,” Cartman said. “My hatred for you burns hotter than my vagina, which is hotter than  _ hell _ right now.” 

“ _ You’re _ hotter than hell,” Kenny snickered. 

“ _ You _ have the IQ of a fucking walnut,” Cartman said. “You’re lucky you have a nice dick, or I’d be - I’d be - “ 

“Nobody’s ever gonna fuck you besides me,” Kenny said, “and you know it.” 

“Cthulhu’s fucking me,” Cartman said. 

“Doesn’t count,” Kenny said. “Nobody  _ human _ wants your fat, stinky, transsexual ass besides me, Eric.” 

“Now who’s saying words?” Cartman asked. 

“Shh,” Kenny whispered. 

Cartman scowled. “Are you - are you  _ falling asleep _ ?” 

“No,” Kenny said. “I’m resting my eyes.” 

“Well open ‘em, jackoff, and look around at what’s going on!” 

Kenny obliged, just in time to see Cartman’s face turn deathly pale and his jaw go slack. Kenny paused, waiting for some reaction, some clue as to what  _ was _ going on - but Cartman’s eyes fell shut and his body went limp, arms and legs dropping spread-eagle, his dome of a stomach standing upright off his torso. 

“Cartman?” Kenny asked. He perched on one elbow and shook Cartman’s shoulder. “Eric!” 

“ _ The first egg has been planted _ ,” Cthulhu explained, its voice rumbling with a haggard quality unheard till now. 

Kenny sat up, despite his protesting limbs and asshole, placed Cartman’s unconscious head in his lap. The reality of the situation hit him like a ton of bricks. He watched baseball-sized masses travel down Cthulhu’s ovipositor, only to get swallowed by Cartman’s cunt, then reappear as vague lumps in his stomach; they buoyed to the surface of his skin, bobbing in the pool of amniotic fluids compacted therein. Perhaps it was a mercy Cartman passed out, Kenny thought. 

His fingers trembled as he reached out to touch one of the eggs. They were firm, but not hard, and he was surprised to find Cartman’s stomach retained a small amount of give to it. With the slightest bit of pressure, Kenny made an egg swoosh around its soupy home, which sent ripples across Cartman’s skin. 

Unfortunately, the sensation woke him up. Kenny snatched his hand away. Cartman startled, disoriented at first, until he became cognizant of the ceaseless deposit and started screaming with every stretch of his cunt.

Eggs upon eggs - over two dozen, at least - were funneled into his womb. His red skin began purpling. Irritated tiger stripes formed; his stomach looked like a squash, nearing the size of a second trimester pregnancy. He sobbed and thrashed in Kenny’s arms, but there was no escaping the relentless breeding process now that it had begun. 

“He can’t take much more,” Kenny warned Cthulhu. 

“ _ Almost done,”  _ Cthulhu promised. Its tentacles lifted Cartman’s hips at a slight incline for a more efficient angle. 

Kenny stroked Cartman’s face, desperately hoping he’d pass out again, if only so his incessant screaming would stop. Their neighbors probably suspected somebody was getting  _ murdered _ . Cops were going to show up at their door any minute. 

Cthulhu sensed these thoughts. A tentacle wiggled over Cartman’s stomach and prodded his mouth. Cartman jerked back, headbutting Kenny’s chest, whimpered. 

“ _ Dad _ ,” Kenny said. “You’re gonna suffocate him!” 

Cthulhu ignored Kenny’s protest, forced the tentacle past Cartman’s lips, down his throat. Cartman groaned around the length, eyes rolling in the back of his head. He heaved as much oxygen as he could through his fluttering nostrils whilst his neck bulged with the tentacle’s silhouette. More aphrodisiac squelched past his lips, dribbling down his chin as Cthulhu eased the tentacle's passage down Cartman’s esophagus. Cartman didn’t stop screaming, but the noise was muffled. 

After that, everything ended quickly. Cthulhu pumped a couple more eggs into Cartman’s womb, then dumped the largest dose of fluid yet - but, for some reason, Kenny knew it wasn’t just an aphrodisiac. It was the sperm of an evil, monstrous demigod; Cthulhu had fertilized the eggs. 

Its flaccid ovipositor eased out of Cartman’s cunt. The various tentacles wrapped around Cartman’s legs retracted, along with the tentacle in his throat. 

“ _ It is over _ ,” Cthulhu announced. 

Cartman sat up, immediately keeled over his gargantuan stomach. 

“Eric, wait,” Kenny said, grabbing his shoulders. “Slow down, babe.” 

“I’m gonna be sick,” Cartman moaned, and puked all over himself. Covered in tears, snot, Cthulhu cum, and vomit, his hands roved across his impregnated abdomen, which sat atop his thighs heavy and inflamed. “Oh, god…” 

Kenny gathered Cartman into his arms, shushed and consoled him. “You did it. You fucking did it.” 

“Yay me,” Cartman mumbled. His head lolled to the side, cushioned by Kenny’s bony shoulder. 

“ _ You are truly a monster among mortals,” _ Cthulhu commended. It stood at the foot of the bed, towering over both the humans. “ _ Never before has a mortal survived an implantation such as this. _ ” 

“We’re not out of the woods yet,” Kenny said. “How long is this gonna last?” 

_ “I am not sure,” _ Cthulhu said. “ _ Time is different where I come from. One second could last a thousand mortal years; but one thousand mortal years could also last but a second _ .” 

“Great,” Kenny sighed. 

“ _ The average gestation period for my kind lasts two millinea, _ ” Cthulhu said. “ _ In this realm, that probably equates to...two weeks _ .” 

“Two weeks isn’t so bad,” Kenny said. He pecked Cartman’s cheek. “Right?” 

Cartman shrugged Kenny off of him and faced Cthulhu. “What about when I gotta push these things outta me? How’s that gonna go down?” 

“ _ The eggs will grow in size, then hatch. After a brief expulsion of the broken shells, the offspring will fight for dominance. Only the strongest will survive to full term.” _

“They’ll eat each other,” Cartman said. 

“ _ Yes _ ,” Cthulhu nodded. “ _ In the end, you will only birth a handful of live progeny out of the dozens of eggs you carry now. _ ” 

Cartman looked down at his stomach. For now, at least, he could wrap his arms around the entire circumference. “That’s fucked up.” 

“ _ Do not fret _ ,” Cthulhu advised. “ _ They will be quite small. Perhaps the size of a large human - what did you call it, Kenny? _ ” 

“A baby,” Kenny said. 

“ _ Yes, that’s right. The size of a large human baby. _ ” 

“How many are we talking?” Cartman asked. “Quadruplets, quintuplets? Don’t tell me I’m the next Octo Mom.” 

“ _ It is impossible to say _ .  _ A rough estimate would be anywhere between four to ten offspring _ .” 

Cartman’s frame flagged. He laid back into Kenny’s chest, closed his eyes. “I thought  _ this _ was the hard part.” 

“ _ There is one more preparation which will potentially simplify the birthing process _ ,” Cthulhu added. 

Cartman’s eyes flew open. He squeezed his legs shut. “No. No way. I don’t care what the hell it is.” 

“ _ This concerns Kenny _ ,” Cthulhu said. 

Cartman glanced at Kenny, who straightened to attention. “What is it?” 

Cthulhu beckoned him forward. “ _ Show me your plumbing, my son _ .” 

Kenny disengaged from Cartman and shuffled forward on his knees. Given the hell Cartman just endured, he did so without complaint, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t nervous. “What are you gonna do to my dick?” 

“ _ A supply of my aphrodisiac, lasting the next two weeks, will aid Cartman in the removal of the eggshells and eventual birth _ .” 

“Uhhh.” 

“He’s gonna put it in your balls,” Cartman supplied. 

“ _ Please relax _ ,” Cthulhu instructed. 

A group of tentacles seized Kenny’s hips and pulled him flush against Cthulhu. Another tentacle held Kenny’s shaft in place, and a third tentacle, thinner than a cord of string, probed Kenny’s glans. 

Kenny yelped. Instinctively, he pulled his knees together, and his balls drew up in defense. 

“ _ You must relax _ ,” Cthulhu reiterated. “ _ This will take much longer otherwise _ .” 

“Quit being a pussy,” Cartman chided behind him. Kenny heard Cartman move around, then yelped again when a couple fingers entered his gaping asshole. 

“Cartman!” 

“I’m  _ helping _ ,” Cartman said, beginning to massage Kenny’s prostate like he was digging for gold. 

Against all known laws of physics, Kenny’s dick slowly hardened. Overstimulated and losing his mind, Kenny writhed, trapped between Cthulhu’s tentacles and Cartman’s relentless fingers. 

“Oh, shut up,” Cartman snapped. 

A tentacle dragged across Kenny’s lip. He keened, squeezing around Cartman’s fingers. “I’ll be quiet, I’ll be quiet,” he promised. 

“I don’t believe you,” Cartman said. 

The tentacle pushed into Kenny’s mouth and sat in his throat, restricting any noise and forcing Kenny to breathe through his nose. Kenny gnawed on the tentacle, but the skin was too thick for him to do any damage; he ended up drooling on himself, was all. 

“ _ I’ll make this as quick as possible _ ,” Cthulhu said. 

Kenny would rather Cthulhu not do that, but, unable to voice this complaint, he could only suffer as the thin tentacle pushed into his penis. Pain blossomed along his erect shaft unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. The tentacle squeezed all the way through his urethra, took a right, and entered his vans deferens. A burning sensation routed throughout Kenny’s entire reproductive system, like a line of gunpowder set alight, as the tentacle split apart and eased into both of Kenny’s testicles.

Sobbing around the tentacle lodged in his mouth, Kenny tried his best to focus on Cartman stimulating his prostate. Cartman ducked down and began eating him out as well to furnish a better distraction. 

Meanwhile, the twin ends of the tentacle probe metered out small portions of aphrodisiac. Beset with a minimum measure of comfort, Kenny relaxed in Cthulhu and Cartman’s joint grasp as his balls filled with fluid. Stretched to abnormal limits, the skin of his scrotum tightened, wrinkles smoothing out. 

Sufficiently filled, the tentacle inside of him edged backwards, then finally escaped through Kenny’s glans. A spurt of cum - both his own and that which was borrowed from Cthulhu - followed. 

Cartman removed his tongue and fingers from his ass, and Cthulhu set him down. Kenny dropped into a heap on the bed, covered his penis and balls - now the size of grapefruits - with his hands. 

Cartman leaned over lifted one of his hands to get a closer look. “Whoa. That’s sweet.”

“This is  _ not _ sweet,” Kenny ground out. 

“Sure it is,” Cartman said. He poked one of Kenny’s enlarged balls. “I’m not the only one fucked up from this.” 

“Don’t touch it,” Kenny whined. 

“Awww,” Cartman crooned. “Hurts, doesn’t it?” 

“ _ I shall take my leave _ ,” Cthulhu said. The two humans looked up at him, and Cthulhu raised a few tentacles, as if it were tipping a hat. “ _ You two have done me a service no other mortals have. I will not forget it _ .” 

“That’s it?” Cartman asked. “That’s all you have to say?” 

“ _ Thank you _ ,” Cthulhu added. 

“You owe us big time,” Cartman said. “Big time,” he repeated. 

“ _ Your debt has been repaid, _ ” Cthulhu said, “ _ and Kenny’s obligation as my son is fulfilled. We are now even _ .” 

“Just get out of my house,” Cartman groused. 

“Bye, Dad,” Kenny said. 

Another rift in reality opened up. Cthulhu stepped through the portal, then vanished, leaving Cartman and Kenny alone, in pain, and thoroughly fucked. 

“We’re disgusting,” Cartman said. He patted Kenny’s flank. “C’mon, Ken. I need to shower.” 

Kenny huffed. Only Eric Cartman would be so bossy and nonchalant after something like this. 

“Kenny!” 

“I’m up, I’m up,” Kenny said. He rose onto shaky feet, cupping his massive balls with both hands, observed the scene before him - Cartman, heavily pregnant, sitting on their sopping wet bed - and filed the sight away in the vault of his subconscious. “Can you get up?” 

“I think so,” Cartman said. He scooted to the edge of the bed, planted his feet on the floor, and, supporting his stomach with both hands, stood up. After taking a second to adjust to his new center of gravity, he dropped his arms and his stomach jiggled, hanging low over his ruined cunt. 

Leaning against one another, they hobbled into their bathroom and climbed into the shower together. 

“This is nuts,” Kenny said as he lathered Cartman’s stomach with soap. 

“Your nuts are nuts,” Cartman returned. 

“How’s your snatch?” Kenny asked. 

Cartman shrugged. “How’s your dick?” 

“Touche,” Kenny said. The sudsy rag slipped from his hands. He wrapped his arms around Cartman and leant down to kiss him languidly. 

Cartman moaned, broke off, and set his chin on the crown of Kenny’s head. “What was that for?” 

“You saved my life,” Kenny said. “I’d be dead for real if you hadn’t done that.” 

Cartman clicked his tongue, uncomfortable with emotions and expressing them. “Don’t forget our deal,” he said. “Anything I want, and you’ll do it.” 

“Totally,” Kenny said. “What do you want to do now?” 

“I want a Valium,” Cartman said. “I want to go to bed.” 

“Okay, babe,” Kenny murmured. 

They finished washing each other, then padded back into the bedroom without drying off. 

“We need a new bed,” Kenny said, as their current one was now ruined beyond repair. Fluids and vomit soaked into the sheets, probably down into the mattress itself. 

“We’ll deal with it later,” Cartman said, and collapsed onto his back. 

Kenny laid beside him, pulled out the Valium and vodka, and a cigarette for himself. “Cheers.” 

Cartman downed two pills with a healthy pull of liquor and laid down. “Go to fucking sleep, Kenny,” he ordered. 

Kenny stayed awake for a little while longer, chainsmoking as he watched Cartman’s stomach rise with every slow breath, and knew that this was only the beginning of something terrible, gross, and exhilarating. 

  
  
  



End file.
